


Let Your Laughter Fill the Room

by tbazzsnow (Artescapri)



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: M/M, Night at Home, Spending Time Together, autocorrect fails, laughing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-28 22:46:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16732083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artescapri/pseuds/tbazzsnow
Summary: Snowbaz prompt: Simon and Baz laughing their asses off. Like, falling down, snorting, clapping each other on the back, tears in their eyes where they can’t catch their breath-hilarity. Where things quiet down and they look at whatever set them off and then Baz snorts and Simon squeals and they just start cracking up all over again.nb: the autocorrect fails in this fic have some nsfw wordsthanks to @fight-surrender at Tumblr for the prompt





	Let Your Laughter Fill the Room

**Baz**

I bought Simon a mobile. I did it before I went back to Watford for the spring term. I needed to know he could contact me whenever he needed and have more privacy than the Bunce family landline.

I took my mobile to school as well. Headmistress Bunce is far more lenient about electronics than the Mage ever was.

I would have taken mine even if the Mage’s stupid restrictions were still in place. I needed to have that contact with Simon. The texts good-night. The emoji sentences Simon uses to communicate. The pictures of random birds and dogs and sidewalks that he sends me. The sound of him breathing into the phone as I helped him count his inhalations and exhalations when the panic would set in. 

The nights we just couldn’t hang up after saying good-night.

Now that we’re all in London I found the time to upgrade mine. I now have the latest model iPhone. Simon gives me shit about it daily.

I don’t care. I like it. The only thing I don’t like is the usual autocorrect cock-ups that come with a new phone. I’m too lazy to go through the effort of sorting the predicted spelling ahead of time so I just get surly when it fucks up and I have to retype.

Speaking of fucking up. Does anyone at Apple truly think people type ‘duck’ or ‘ducking’ with such frequency? I should think not.

It’s entertained Simon no end because sometimes I miss the alteration or hit send only to have the sodding autocorrect change it right as I’m sending it out.

He thinks it’s hilarious to get a text from me telling him to ‘duck off.’ Bunce said he was practically crying with laughter at breakfast the morning of the tube strike.

I bloody well didn’t know about the damn inconvenience going on. I had things to do. Traipsing all over London on foot was not part of my grand plan for the day. It was murder trying to find a cab, even with magick.

I might have texted him a fair bit that morning. Venting out my frustrations as I walked in the humid summer drizzle. I hadn’t even brought an umbrella with me.

At Watford I could have simply cast a spell to keep myself dry but London’s too crowded for that, particularly as I was walking in public. It would have looked far too suspicious if I’d been the only dry one.

I must admit part of the reason I haven’t been more diligent with the autocorrect settings is because it amuses Simon so to see the errors. I’m weak. I’m pathetically attached to seeing him smile. And laugh. I could never tire of Simon’s laugh. It’s the most magnificent sound.

**Simon**

I took cover in a bookshop when the rain came down today. Wandered about for a bit there.

I’m not the reader Baz is. Or Penny for that matter. It’s never been all that easy for me. But I don’t mind poking around bookshops. They’re interesting places, especially the smaller ones, like this place. Find some funny things, you do.

The rain wasn’t letting up so I wandered further back, to the used section and sale bin. I rummaged around the shelves a bit. Baz has this thing about old books. Out of print books, old children’s books, obscure titles. Thinks they’re treasure troves full of spell potential.

I’m not sure I understand his reasoning. I thought spells got stronger as people used the language more frequently. That’s why nursery rhymes and idioms and such can be so powerful. Why Shakespeare’s so powerful, if you can get the right intonation and vowel shift and whatnot.

Baz and Penny can go on for hours about it all. I don’t know why he thinks there’s potential in these books but for some reason he does and now he’s got Penny scrounging through his collection of them too.

There aren’t any hidden gems here. Nothing that Baz would find intriguing.

At the bottom of the sale bin, in the deepest markdown section, I find one that catches my eye. “ _Damn You, Autocorrect”_ blares up at me from the orange cover. Oh, this could be good.

I flip it open to a random page and read one of the entries.

Ten minutes later I am wiping tears of laughter from my face with my sleeve and giggling helplessly. I have to buy it.

With all the ridiculous texts I’ve been getting from Baz since he got his posh new iPhone there is absolutely no way I am leaving without this book.

**Baz**

I text Simon to let him know I’m on my way over.

It takes a little longer than usual to get a response. He must have been eating again, the insatiable twat.

I have a key now. I give a perfunctory knock when I arrive at their flat and then let myself in.

Bunce has a hand over her eyes and her shoulders are shaking as she sits at the table. I can’t tell if she’s laughing or crying.

My eyes immediately dart to Simon in alarm.

He’s curled up on their lumpy sofa, a book in his hand. He looks glorious, head thrown back in laughter, face flushed, eyes closed. He takes my breath away.

Bunce turns at my approach and focuses her penetrating gaze on me. The effect is somewhat diminished from its usual piercing intensity by the amusement evident in her eyes and the fact that she can’t stop giggling. “Thank goodness you’re here, Baz. He’s been like this since he got home. I can’t even understand half of what he’s been saying, he’s been laughing so hard he can hardly speak. He’s pestered me all through dinner.” She picks up her dishes. “I’ve got reading to do. He’s all yours now.” She nods her head at Simon as she stands and gives me a wink before disappearing into the kitchen.

Curiouser and curiouser, as Alice would say.

I drop down on the sofa next to Simon and he opens his eyes to beam at me. His legs settle over mine as he grins. I can’t help leaning towards him, drowning in those blue eyes of his. He presses a kiss to my temple and then waves the book he’s holding at me. The cover is an offensive shade of orange.

“Baz.”

“Simon.”

“Baz. You’ve got to read this. It’s fucking hilarious.”

He waves the book at me again and I take it from him gingerly.

It’s a dog eared paperback. “ _Damn You, Autocorrect_ ” is aggressively blazoned on the cover. “What is this?”

“It bloody fucking brilliant, is what it is. Found it in this dusty old bookshop this afternoon and I haven’t been able to put it down since. You have to read it with me, Baz, really you do.” He’s positively glowing.

The book looks ridiculous but who am I to refuse Simon Snow when he’s looking so delectable?

“Pick a page, Baz. Any page will do.”

I frown at him. “That’s not quite how books are done, Snow. Even you should know that.” He snorts as I primly open it to the beginning.

I read it out loud and Simon starts spluttering before I manage to finish.

“That’s almost as bad as you when you first started texting,” I tell him. I peer down at the page again. “Just with far less emojis.”

“Come on, Baz. Keep reading.”

I inadvertently snort as I read further. Simon’s head is thrown back and he’s giggling helplessly. I dart him a look and can’t help smiling. He’s gorgeous, curls disheveled, face flushed with laughter, the line of his neck mesmerizing.

His foot kicks out. “Keep reading!”

I can’t even get through the next one without bursting into laughter. Simon is shaking, eyes bright, tears of amusement leaking from the corners of his eyes. He can’t even speak so he just waves his hand at me to keep going.

I glance down at the text and manage to choke out just a few words before I start giggling myself. I can’t finish it.

“I know this one,” Simon chortles. He’s wiping his eyes now.

I try to keep reading but I just can’t. I’m laughing so hard I snort again which sets Simon off in another fit of hilarity.

I flip forward a few pages and read silently to myself. My hands are trembling and I can’t tell if it’s from Simon shaking the sofa with his howls of laughter or if it’s me. I’m laughing so hard I can’t seem to catch my breath.

**Simon**

I’ve never seen Baz laugh like this. He actually snorted just now. Some color has come into his face and his eyes are sparkling with amusement.

He can’t even keep his voice steady enough to read. Every time he looks down at the page he goes off again, sniggering and cackling.

I’m no better. I can’t even speak at this point. I keep thinking of the last autocorrect fail he read and find myself howling again.

**Baz**

I’ve completely given up trying to read these to Simon. I’m scanning the pages and my stomach aches from laughing so hard.

I can’t stop, can’t catch my breath, can’t stop the giggles that are just spilling out of me. I put the book down to wipe my eyes. I manage to lock eyes with Simon and then gales of laughter sweep over us again. I’m shaking. I lean towards him and tilt over. I can’t even sit up anymore.

This hilarity has left me boneless.

I’m splayed over Simon, arms wrapped around his waist as he continues to chortle to himself. Each laugh of his ends up bumping my head where it rests against his chest and sets me off again.

I don’t even know how long it takes for us to settle down. As soon as I catch my breath he starts giggling again. Simon’s got the hiccups now so my head is bouncing with every hitch of his chest. I find it endearingly comical.

I wipe my eyes and look up at him. He gives me a brilliant smile, eyes crinkling at the corners, face beaming with mirth.

“You found that where?”

“In this little bookshop near campus. I got caught in the rain and ran in there until it passed.”

“It’s the funniest thing I’ve read in years.” I rest my chin on his chest and gaze up at him. He’s so fucking perfect.

“It’s the funniest thing I’ve ever read, Baz. I picked it up because the title amused me. Made me think of all those ‘ducking’ and ‘duck off’ texts you’ve been sending me. Had to buy it.”

I slide up the sofa so our faces are level. “I’m glad you did.”

Our lips meet and then just as I go to deepen the kiss he starts giggling again.

I pull back to look at him, eyebrow raised in question.

“ _Penis potion_ ,” he says and drops his forehead to mine as he laughs.

“ _Epic penis_ ,” I reply and we are both completely useless again.

We might as well be twelve, with the way these ridiculous jokes are making us laugh.

I never thought we could ever be like this.

I can’t believe we wasted so much time sniping at each other when we could have been laughing together.

There’s no one on earth like Simon Snow. And he’s all mine.

And I’m utterly, devotedly, desperately, his.

**Author's Note:**

> autocorrect fails from Damn You Autocorrect website
> 
> song title from Van Morrison song Virgo Clowns


End file.
